


Parrish Gets Down on One Knee

by qwertybob



Series: Parrish Does Something Mundane [4]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Post-Canon, Post-The Raven King, Romance, Ronan Lynch Loves Adam Parrish, Ronan Lynch is Bad at Feelings, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-14
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-10-18 17:12:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10621419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qwertybob/pseuds/qwertybob
Summary: Part 4 of the series. (Previous works: Parrish Fell Asleep, Parrish Gets Jealous, Parrish Moves In.)No spoilers, but the title is pretty self-explanatory.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This work was inspired by The Office episode where Jim and Pam talk about getting engaged (ep: Fun Run!) and the episode where they actually do get engaged (ep: Weight Loss!).

Adam was awake. It was five in the morning, before the sun rose, and he was watching Ronan sleep. A dribble of drool ran out of the corner of the dreamer’s open mouth. His dark eyelashes fanned over his skin and Adam wanted to kiss them. Ronan snored softly, his arm draped over Adam’s waist. Leather bracelets pressed against Adam’s skin, but it was far from unpleasant.

Ronan shifted and groaned. Adam pretended to be sleeping as Ronan rose out of bed and lumbered sleepily towards the bathroom. When he returned, he combed his fingers through Adam’s hair and softly rested them against Adam’s cheek.

Feigning tiredness (even though he had been wide awake for at least an hour watching Ronan), Adam reached for Ronan’s hand. He kissed Ronan’s fingers with his eyes closed.

“Go back to sleep, Parrish,” Ronan whispered in the dark.

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

Ronan snorted. “Fine. Want to help me feed the cows?”

Adam considered it. He opened his eyes. Ronan smiled down at him.

Adam wanted to prolong this moment for as long as possible.

He made a show of rolling out of bed and stretching his arms over his head, using the opportunity to rest his arms on Ronan’s shoulders and kiss his boyfriend.

“Morning,” he said against Ronan’s mouth.

“You’re such a fucking nerd,” Ronan muttered, but he kissed Adam back. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. I was just fucking with you.”

“Too many words,” Adam said, tugging on Ronan’s hand.

As they fed the cows, Opal joined them, bringing Chainsaw with her. The bird and the hoofed girl didn’t really help with the chores, unless ‘chores’ included squawking as loudly as possible to wake the chickens and running around the field pretending to be a bear.

Adam also wasn’t as helpful as he should have been because he kept getting distracted by the sight of his boyfriend. Ronan’s shoulders were strong and relaxed. His stance projected his comfort here and how much he belonged. This wasn’t necessarily a new discovery, but Adam noticed that his own stance was beginning to mirror that of Ronan’s. Ever since he moved in, he started feeling this new belonging tugging at him, whispering suggestions in his ear like Cabeswater used to.

Every night since Ronan said them, Adam had been turning the words, _Let’s get fucking married, Parrish_ , over and over in his head. Ronan hadn’t brought it up or acknowledged it. It was unlikely he ever would because Adam was never supposed to hear it in the first place. And like every other important event in their relationship—the lotion, the rent, the kiss—he and Ronan never explicitly _talked_ about anything. They just _did_.

Marriage was an institution—a dated concept, a false construction of how society decided people should live. Before Ronan planted the seeds, Adam had never really considered the idea in that much depth. Of course, he assumed he would get there eventually—society’s definition of success meant having a beautiful wife and a couple kids who would eventually grow up to resent you. The perfect nuclear family. In Adam’s mind, his future spouse and family had never had faces before. They weren’t concrete people, not even the beginning of an idea while everything else was in focus—a job, a life outside Henrietta, a house that he bought with his own money, a fancy car, the ability to buy as many tailored Italian suits as he desired.

Adam knew he didn’t _need_ marriage to be successful, and he definitely didn’t _need_ to marry Ronan to know that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. But living at the Barns had given Adam dreams, fantasies spurred on by Ronan’s words. Now, when he looked into his future, the only things that were clear and defined were a sharp, snake-of-a-boy, standing beside a keen, hoofed-dream girl holding an impossible black raven—while everything else was out of focus.

Perhaps going down this path was illogical; perhaps it compromised Adam’s independence and everything he thought he wanted in life—but he’d be lying if he said that his decisions now never considered Ronan and Opal in the outcome. If Adam wanted to do an internship in a different city for the purposes of his career, he would still go through with it with the added consideration for vacation time and extra funds so that he could come home often.

There were certainly a lot of things working against them. He and Ronan weren’t even 20 yet. Things could change—they could grow out of each other, they could want impossibly different things in the future, they could fall out of love.

But every time Adam looked at his family, his heart glowed and burst with happiness and love. The idea of giving them up or growing out of this feeling seemed as impossible as letting Gansey die. Just like they brought Gansey back, Adam would do anything to keep Ronan and Opal as close to him as possible.

Something flew through the air and lobbed into Adam’s chest. Surprised and caught day dreaming, Adam fell on his ass into a pile of hay, yanked harshly out of his fantasies. Ronan laughed, throwing himself into the hay pile beside Adam.

“Are you actually going to help me, or are you going to just stare at me all morning?”

Adam tried to hide what was in his hand. While watching Ronan and thinking about his future, he had been playing with a piece of hay, which had somehow shaped itself into a ring around the fourth finger of his left hand.

“I thought my job was to stand around and look pretty,” Adam said with a grin as he stuffed the hay ring into his pocket.

Ronan rolled his eyes. “If that’s your job, you’re failing horribly. First failing grade you’ve ever gotten in your life.”

Adam hooked his arm around Ronan’s neck, trapping him in a headlock. “Asshole.”

Ronan laughed, freeing himself from Adam’s grip. He sighed, leaning into Adam’s side and resting his head on Adam’s shoulder, with his arms wrapped around Adam’s waist. “Seriously though, stop staring at me. It’s fucking creepy. I have actual work to do without you being some sick voyeur dipshit about it.”

Adam smiled sweetly. “The half-asleep farmer thing is one of my kinks, Lynch. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

Ronan turned an embarrassing shade of red as he shoved Adam half-heartedly and stood gracefully from the haystack. “Oh, fuck off, Parrish.”

Ronan offered Adam a hand up. Adam rolled off the pile, getting to one knee before taking Ronan’s hand. When he looked up at Ronan, their gazes snagged on each other, holding both of them in place.

Adam’s mouth went dry. His fingers wanted to reach into his pocket and pull out the hay ring he had made. He was already on one knee. The words were on the tip of his tongue, begging to be set free. _Let’s get fucking married, Lynch_ , he wanted to say, because it was the single most important thing in the world right now.

No. It was too impulsive. He couldn’t ask Ronan to marry him while they were both covered in miscellaneous barn materials. He needed to plan and assess and make a list of the pros and cons and consult with the Lynch brothers and make sure Opal was okay with it. He needed to buy an actual ring—not some piece of cow food he had tied into a circle. He couldn’t do this while they were surrounded by lowing cows, probably standing in shit and muck, and wearing sweat pants that he slept in.

“Ronan,” Adam said, his voice raspy.  

Ronan’s eyes were hypnotic. “Yeah?”

“Will you...”

Ronan stood up straighter.

“Will you...make me some pancakes later?”

Ronan snorted, his cheeks pink as he yanked Adam to his feet. “You’re a fucking asshole, Parrish.”

“What?” Adam laughed, while making sure Ronan wasn’t actually mad at him. “What did you think I was going to ask you, Ronan?”

“Yeah, I’ll make you some fucking pancakes after I’m done feeding the other ungrateful animals who live here,” Ronan said, sending Adam a look that said he was not amused.

Adam followed Ronan out of the barn, grinning like a mad-man. He felt a little drunk, like he had somehow found a way to intoxicate himself on Ronan’s emotions. “Ronan, _wait_ , what did you think I was going to ask you?”

Ronan just shook his head and gave Adam the finger over his shoulder. Laughing, Adam ran after Ronan—specifying that he wanted _chocolate_ , not blueberry, pancakes—and wrapped his hand around the hay ring in his pocket.

He and Ronan were going to get fucking married.

Ronan just didn’t know it yet.

#

Adam felt pretty confident that Matthew would be 110% on board. He was not disappointed. As they sat in the diner, Matthew excitedly asked Adam a million questions, including what sort of wedding cake Adam and Ronan were going to get, because it was tradition that you were supposed to save a slice of your cake in the freezer and eat it on your first anniversary, so it was important to pick a good one that you would still like a year later.

“Sort of like your husband,” Matthew quipped, sipping his milkshake. “Have you chosen Ronan wisely? Will you still love him in a year?”

“Yes,” Adam said firmly. “At least for that long, but I’m betting on—” _forever_ “—much longer than that.”

Matthew beamed. “So, what cake are you going to get?’

“I don’t know, Matthew,” Adam said, laughing lightly. “I haven’t even asked Ronan yet.”

“Oh, right.” Matthew waved his hand like that was the least important detail of Adam and Ronan’s marriage. “Ronan likes Red Velvet. I’ve told him a million times that Red Velvet is just _chocolate_ with red food coloring, but Ronan says it tastes different. I hope you convince him not to get it because I think he just eats it to make me mad.”

Although Adam loved Matthew and he would be willing to talk for hours about cake, there would be time for it later. Adam had other shit to do today.

Adam looked at Declan, who had been sitting next to Matthew, silently staring at the table for the last fifteen minutes. He hadn’t said a single thing since Adam told them of his intentions, and he couldn’t get a read on the older Lynch's thoughts. Adam's relationship with Declan was tremulous at best, but he thought they had been steadily reaching a point of mutual respect. ‘Respect’ meaning that Adam understood Declan’s motives even if he didn’t agree with the delivery, and Declan found it helpful to have Adam, a mostly-neutral party, interpret messages to and from Ronan when necessary.

“Declan?” Adam asked.

Declan looked up from the table. His eyes narrowed minutely when he saw Adam sitting across the table, as if he expected to see someone else. Leaning back in his booth, Declan crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.

“Are you asking for my blessing, Parrish?”

“No,” Adam said honestly. “I don’t need it. Ronan won’t give a shit if you give me your blessing or not. He’d probably even make fun of me for asking you.”

“Then why are you here?”

Adam wasn’t sure. He thought it was the right move. It was what they did in movies—the young maiden (Ronan, haha) needed permission to be given away, and the father (Declan, HAHA) needed to approve of the person asking, so long as he was rich, pretty and asked nicely (Adam, _HAHAHA_ ).

Of course, this was not the same situation, so Adam didn’t have an answer prepared.

He shrugged. “Ronan will do whatever the hell he wants all the time. That we both know. But you are important to him, despite what he does to antagonize you, Declan. Your relationship isn’t something I would call ideal, but Ronan would still hate it if something like me got in between you two.

“I would never ask Ronan to choose between me and you, but if you disapproved, I would still ask Ronan to marry me. We’d go on with our lives with or without you in it.

“However, it would be a hell of a lot easier if Ronan didn’t have to constantly navigate between his brothers and me. I don’t have any siblings, so I can’t sympathize, but Ronan needs you.

“And,” Adam said, trying his best to look as rich and as pretty as possible, “I was looking forward to calling you both brothers.”

Matthew smiled so brightly, it hurt Adam’s eyes to stare directly at him. He held out his hand and Adam shook it, laughing softly at Matthew’s enthusiasm.

“Declan,” Matthew said. The tone of his voice almost sounded like Aurora, gently chiding her eldest from beyond the grave.

Adam hoped that if Niall and Aurora were watching somehow, that they would approve of him. Perhaps no one was good enough for his favorite son in Niall’s eyes, but Adam liked to think he was. Or was at least getting there.

Declan sighed, and to Adam’s surprise and relief, smiled with one corner of his mouth. He extended his hand, which Adam shook quickly before Declan could change his mind.

“It’s your death sentence, Parrish,” Declan said. “But then again, you always were a creepy little fuck.”

“Er, thanks?”

Declan grinned a smile made for battle. “Only the Devil knows what you see in Rosemary’s Baby. And in case you weren’t aware, that is your future father-in-law—the fucking Devil.”

Adam snorted, feeling a weight lift off his chest that he hadn’t been aware existed before now. “Fuck you, Declan.” And after a pause: “And thank you.”

Declan shrugged, clapping Matthew on the shoulder and pointing at Adam with a stern look. “You got yourself into this mess, Parrish. No backing out now, you fucker.”

#

Ronan offered to drive Adam to work today since he needed to go into town to buy Opal some new shoes. Adam agreed because he liked spending time in the passenger seat of Ronan’s car.

Adam bent down right in front of the door to put his shoes on, tying the laces of the left sneaker first. Ronan stood next to him, waiting for Adam to hurry the fuck up and move out of the goddamn way.

“Hey, Lynch.”

Adam looked up at Ronan with a soft smile. Their eyes met, pulling at one another like magnets that were both convinced that they were stronger than the other.

Ronan swallowed. “What, Parrish.”

“Will you...”

Ronan’s grip tightened on the doorknob.

“Will you...pass me my other shoe?”

Adam pointed across the hall where his other shoe lay abandoned. Ronan exhaled, his face hot, too hot, as he kicked Adam’s shoe at him.

“You’re a fucking bastard, Parrish.”

“What?” Adam laughed as he switched from right knee to left. “What did you think I was going to ask you, Ronan?”

#

Adam called Gansey. He was in South Africa with Henry and Blue, and Adam asked him if this was a good time.

“Wonderful, Adam, we were just settling in for the evening.”

“Good. I’m going to ask Ronan to marry me.”

There was a heavy silence on the line. Then, “Jesus _fuck_.”

Adam smiled because he could imagine Gansey clutching his chest, eyes wide like the wheels of the Camaro. “You okay, Gansey?”

“Adam, I’m so happy.” And Adam could hear it in his voice, the sheer joy, the urge to yell.

And then he heard sniffling.

“Gansey, are you crying?”

“I think crying is a perfectly appropriate response when your two best friends are getting married—to each other!”

Adam laughed and laughed, and maybe he also shed a tear because holy _fuck_ , this was happening, he was going to ask Ronan to marry him and—

“Fuck, what if he says no?”

Gansey was quiet for enough time to make Adam nervous. He cleared his throat. “I’ve known Ronan a long time, Adam. I can’t always predict what Ronan will do. But once, you asked me why I dealt with his bad behavior. Do you remember what I said?”

“Ronan is always honest.”

“Ronan is so honest that I can see whenever he looks at you the truth shining out of his eyes. He’s going to say yes the second the question is out of your mouth.”

Adam closed his eyes, clutching at his chest so that he and Gansey were mirror images. “Okay.”

“There _is_ something you should be concerned about, however.”

“What’s that?”

“Who am I going to serve as best man?”

#

Adam, Ronan and Opal were walking through the small forest behind the Barns because Opal insisted that she saw a unicorn here the night before and she intended to befriend it. Adam was skeptical about the existence of this unicorn, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was real because, well, Ronan Lynch.

Opal ran ahead of them, exchanging _kerah_ ’s with Chainsaw, who flew above her head. Adam caught a glimpse of something in the mud and he tugged on Ronan’s hand to stop as he bent down to pick it up.

“Ronan.”

Adam was on one knee, staining his jeans with dirt as he pulled something out of the mud, holding it up to Ronan’s face.

Ronan froze. “What is it, Parrish.”

“Will you...”

Ronan’s hand gripped Adam’s like a vice.

“Will you...look at that! A lucky penny!”

Adam wiped the dirt off the coin as he set it in Ronan’s hand. Ronan’s fingers closed around it before he tossed the lucky fucking penny into the abyss of the surrounding trees.

“You’re a fucking shitstain, Parrish.”

“What?” Adam laughed as he got to his feet and wiped the dirt off his pants. “What did you think I was going to give you, Ronan?”

#

Adam bought a ring. He saved a couple pay checks and took on a few more shifts and skimmed down on his food intake and biked instead of paying for gas. The nostalgia of his high school days hit him like a gentle pat on the shoulder— _Hey, remember this?_ Adam almost laughed at the stark differences between the two situations. It was almost as if all of that struggle and hardship was just training him for this moment.

He wondered idly, as he stared at the simple dark metal band rolling around in his fingers, what his parents would think of this. Should he call and let his mother know? Would she come to the wedding?

It didn’t matter. This wasn’t about them. This was about Adam’s happiness.

Ronan was out on an errand. Opal was playing with Chainsaw in the living room, creating a nest for the raven out of old t-shirts—and possibly new t-shirts. Adam sat on the couch, watching her with a smile.

Opal, sensing his mood, quietly put the t-shirt scraps down and sat next to him. She put her small hand on top of his. Waiting.

Wordlessly, Adam pulled out the second ring he bought, identical to the first, but meant for fingers that were much smaller. He offered it to her. She took it, considered it, and slipped it onto her thumb without question. Adam’s throat constricted as she smiled at him and kissed his cheek.

“You’re already my family,” she said before she resumed her spot on the floor, surrounded by t-shirt scraps.

Chainsaw flapped into his lap and pecked at his wrist. Adam scratched at the feathers by her neck and laughed as she cooed like a pigeon, nudging her head into his hand.

When Ronan came home and asked Adam why his eyes were red and puffy, Adam told him it was allergies.

#

For the past week, Adam had been acting strange, and Ronan was taking notice. The wound-up behavior reminded Ronan of Parrish circa last year when he had a million assignments due and three jobs and a Welsh king to wake up. Ronan wanted to ask what was bothering him, but he trusted that Adam would tell him if it was serious.

But, just because Ronan wasn’t prying in Parrish's business, it didn’t stop him from coming up with wild theories.

  1. Maybe Parrish was sick. He looked like he had lost a bit of weight and he wasn’t getting much sleep. Part of the lack of sleep was Ronan’s fault (he wasn't sorry about that), but Ronan had noticed that Adam pretended to be sleeping whenever Ronan woke up. Parrish was becoming quite the insomniac, and Ronan couldn't take full responsibility. 
  2. Maybe Parrish needed a break from him. Ronan had been trying to stay out of his way when he got into a mood, but Adam was always trying to help him around the Barns, or sat right next to him on the couch, or went out of his way to make plans. Ronan certainly wasn’t complaining, but if Parrish was sick of him, why did he still insist they spent all their free time together?
  3. Maybe Parrish was going to...
  4. No.
  5. But maybe...
  6. Fucking stop, Lynch. Just _no_.
  7. But.
  8. Maybe.



They had dropped off Opal at Fox Way earlier, even though Blue was away on her trip. Opal had requested it specifically. She claimed she needed to ask the psychics about some important change that was approaching in her life, despite Ronan's attempts to tell her it was all bullshit. Opal had covered her ears and began humming as soon as Ronan opened his mouth. To add insult onto injury, Adam was unsympathetic to Ronan’s attempts to convince her because Adam claimed that she must have learned that sort of immature behavior from somewhere, as he sent Ronan a poignant look.

Ronan was deciding what movie they should watch when Adam asked him if he wanted to go for a ride. Ronan was suspicious. Adam was already standing by the door, his hand shaking as he reached for the doorknob.

“Shit, Parrish, when was the last time you ate something?”

“What do you mean? We just had lunch together.”

“Yeah, and you barely touched your food. And now you’re shaking.”

Adam glanced at his hand. “I’m fine. Come on.”

“We have the house to ourselves, Parrish. You sure you want to go out?” Ronan asked, coming to stand beside him and brushing his lips against Adam’s neck. Whatever was bothering him, Ronan was confident in his abilities to distract.

Ronan caught Adam’s lips against his and pressed him against the door. Adam hummed, hands stilling against Ronan’s shoulders. The tension wrapped around Adam’s frame dripped out of him like engine oil from a car wreck. They kissed until Ronan considered steering them towards the bedroom, but Adam pulled away, much to Ronan's disappointment.

“No. We’ve been shut in this house for days. We can’t spend all our free time fucking.”

“Uhhhh, why the fuck _not_.”

Adam laughed breathlessly, resting his forehead against Ronan’s shoulder and planting a kiss on Ronan’s chest. “Convincing argument, but we’re still going out.”

Ronan sighed and reached behind Adam to open the door. “Fine.”

Adam drove. He had driven the BMW plenty of times, but rarely with Ronan in the passenger seat, which was perhaps too much added pressure. Maybe Adam was nervous that Ronan was judging him because he stalled the car three times in a span of ten minutes.

“Jesus Christ,” Ronan said. “Pull the fuck over. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Adam did as he said. Ronan opened his door and walked around the car to the driver’s seat, pulling Adam out of his seat for some air.

“Seriously, are you about to faint from low blood sugar? Do I need to shove an IV in your arm?”

Adam scowled. “No.”

“Then what the fuck is wrong with your shitty driving?”

“My hands aren’t cooperating.” Adam lifted his trembling hands as evidence.

“Get in the car, Parrish. I’m fucking driving.”

Ronan still had no fucking idea where they were going, but there was minimal argument as Adam walked around to the passenger side and sat with his uncooperative hands stuffed under his legs. His face was red and Ronan tried not to find it fucking adorable that Adam would be stressed driving the BMW with Ronan in the passenger seat. Some sort of performance anxiety? Or maybe it was just low blood-sugar? 

“Just follow this road up the hill,” Adam mumbled. “I’ll tell you more when we’re closer.”

Ronan drove, glancing at the sky, which had been a light grey when they left the Barns. Now, it was the color of the BMW, and soon enough, fat raindrops hit the windshield like water balloons, obscuring their vision completely.

Adam swore violently, which Ronan would have found completely endearing if he wasn't concerned about the glass breaking under the force of the storm. The road was narrow, the pavement was slick, and Ronan was questioning, for the first time in his life, if these were dangerous driving conditions.

“Yeah, this is definitely more fun than locking ourselves in the bedroom,” Ronan mused as he slowed the car.

Adam stewed silently beside him.

“Should we turn back?”

Honestly, Ronan didn’t expect Adam to think so hard. The right answer was clearly: _Ye_ _s, let’s go home and snuggle in some blankets while you lick hot chocolate off my body—_ but Adam sat there, chewing on his lip, sitting on his hands, actually _considering_ the idea of staying out here in this fuckshit weather. Something was wrong with Adam, and Ronan didn't think it was low blood-sugar levels. 

Before Adam had a chance to decide, however, wisps of white smoke snuck out from under the hood. The engine sputtered and Ronan pulled over on the side of the road, the windshield wipers dancing frantically across the glass. He was relieved, though he'd never admit it out loud. Driving fast in perfect weather was five million times safer than driving slow in this asshole of a storm, and while he felt comfortable speeding with Adam as a passenger, he did not want to risk anything right now.

“For _fuck’s_ sake,” Adam muttered. “Just fucking _perfect_.”

Neither of them had brought protective wear, but that didn’t stop Adam from charging into the storm to check under the hood of the car. Ronan really did not want to go out there, and had two legitimate excuses that he was only wearing a tank and knew shit-all about how to fix a car. But as the wind howled and the rain poured and the car continued to smoke, Ronan sighed and joined his boyfriend outside because love and all that bullshit. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Ronan shouted over the wind.

“Overheated!” Adam shouted back, slamming the hood. “We’ll have to wait it out—”

Adam was standing next to him one second, and was sprawled out on the ground in the next. He had slipped on a patch of mud. For a second, Adam just stared ahead with a look on his face that said, _Why does God hate me_ , before he groaned in pain. As Ronan helped Adam to his feet, he laughed because he wasn’t perfect, and frankly, it was reassuring to know that his suave, cool-as-fuck boyfriend occasionally wiped-out like the rest of the lowly mortals.

“Shit, Parrish, are you okay?” Ronan asked through his laughter. “Fucking be careful!”

Adam growled as he leaned against Ronan like a boxer who had taken too many hits. “Fuck. This. Day.”

Ronan maneuvered them to the backseat of the car, shoving Parrish in first before he followed, because chivalry or whatever. Adam was muddy, Ronan was freezing, and they were both panting and shivering at the same damn time. He had no idea why he had gone along with Parrish's stupid ass idea about 'taking a drive,' as if that was such a better plan than having sex in their bedroom. Or in the living room—Ronan hadn't been committed to a location.

“At least I still have—” Adam patted his pockets. “ _Fuck_. Fuck!” He bolted out of the car like he'd just been caught making love with the sheriff's daughter in the backseat. Ronan didn't think someone with a broken ass could move that fast, but he was wrong.

“Parrish! Get the fuck back inside, what are you doing?” Ronan shouted from the safety of the car. Adam was gone for a long time, more than a minute, and Ronan was pumping himself up to go check on him. What if he had been bludgeoned to death by the rain bombs? What if he had fallen in another patch of mud and had really broken his ass for real? What if the wind had swept Adam away and now he wasn't in Kansas anymore? 

Just as Ronan was about to go outside, Adam slid into the backseat and slammed the door shut, panting and shivering and dripping from every part of his body.

Ronan reached into the front seat to turn the heaters on full blast and wrapped both of them in a blanket. Adam wore a devastated look on his face that made Ronan want to fight something. He had never seen Adam look so comically defeated, not even when he had gotten a bad mark on a test. 

“Why the fuck would you go out there again?” Ronan asked, teeth chattering.

Adam held up his fist, which was clenched tightly and filthy with mud. “I thought I lost it. It fell out of my pocket when I slipped.”

Ronan took Adam’s fist and tried to pry his cold fingers open, but Adam's grip was stronger than  _rigor mortis_. “What it is?”

Adam looked a bit like a drowned mouse, his dirt-colored hair plastered against his forehead and his blue eyes wide, from shock, probably. But then he smiled, brilliant white, and threw his head back and laughed. Adam was consumed by chuckling that quickly grew into loud guffaws and knee-slapping roars of amusement. It was probably the loudest Ronan had ever heard Adam laugh before— he was louder than both the wind and the rain. He was still clutching whatever was in his hand with utmost devotion, having himself a grand old time. 

“Adam, you’re freaking me the fuck out,” Ronan said, unsure if he should be worried or amused.

“I know, sorry,” Adam said, still giggling as he pulled Ronan in for a quick kiss. “Sorry, I’ll explain in a second, I just—” He got caught in another fit of laughter, gasping for breath and clutching at his chest with his free hand. “So many fucking things just went wrong— _Jesus fuck._ Declan warned me. He warned me—this is what happens when you’re in love with Rosemary’s Baby! Fuck _me._ No, wait—fuck _Satan_! This is all the Devil's fault! The in-laws are fucking with me already!”

“Adam,” Ronan said, steadying Adam’s face and staring him in the eyes. “Do I need to call someone? Are you okay? What the fuck are you saying? Are you calling me Satan?”

Adam took a few steadying breaths, his giggles disappearing as he breathed and closed his eyes. He wrapped his arms around Ronan’s neck and hugged him closely, their body heat enough to make the shivering stop for a little while. When Ronan pulled back, Adam was almost back to normal; he was still smiling like a loon, but he was standing a safe distance away from whatever imaginary cliff he had just been teetering on.

“Ronan,” Adam said. He was calm, but still wired up, like a nightlight plugged into the wrong sort of power supply. “I had a plan before everything went to shit.”

“Explain as if I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about,” Ronan said, still holding Adam’s face in his hands. “Because I don’t.”

“I’m trying to. Pay attention,” Adam said. “I had a plan. The first part of my plan was that it wasn’t going to rain, but I guess that’s not under my control.

“Second, we were going to drive up this hill and park the car on the side of the road where there is a lookout point.

“Third, we were going to enjoy the view of the valley below because from up there, the forest beneath almost looks like Cabeswater.

“Fourth, we were going to eat a fucking delicious dinner that Opal helped to make, which is sitting in the trunk right now, and we were going to drink some goddamn champagne—but also beers, because fuck champagne.

“Fifth, you were going to make fun of me for being a fucking nerd, and then I was going to pull this out—” Adam opened his clenched hand. Sitting in the center of his palm, covered in mud, was a shiny black ring. “—And I was going to say: _Lynch, will you do me the honor of marrying this fucking nerd?_

“Sixth, you were going to say: _Yes, you fucking asshole_ , and we were going to make-out a lot and potentially have sex in the car, which probably _sounds_ more sexy than it is comfortable.

“I had all of this planned out, but the Devil doesn’t want me marrying his precious spawn, obviously, or else he wouldn’t have ruined it by making it rain.”

“Parrish,” Ronan said. His voice was barely above a whisper, but Adam heard him and looked him in the eye.

Ronan couldn’t tell if it was his heart that was beating so loud, or if it was the rain against the metal of the car. He couldn’t tell if it was his breath that was leaving his lungs with such force, or if it was the wind howling against the windows. He couldn't tell if he was alive, or if they had skidded into a horrible accident and Ronan was in heaven (but more likely hell) right now.

He knew for certain that the man he loved was holding an engagement ring in his hand. He also knew for certain that the man that he loved was staring at him as if he, Ronan N. Lynch, was the intended recipient of said ring.

“Adam,” he breathed, staring at Adam like his life depended on it. “Fuck the plan. Ask me now.”

Adam stopped breathing. Ronan knew this because he was still holding Adam’s face like it was the last dinosaur egg in existence. 

“Ronan,” Adam exhaled, offering Ronan the black ring. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Ronan and Adam met in the middle, a collection of desperate lips and desperate hands. Ronan shivered, but not because it was cold. In fact, it was too fucking hot in the car, _Adam_ was too fucking hot, and Ronan’s blood felt like it was evaporating out of his pores like steam. He felt like a dream, light and fictional and made of impossible colors. He felt  _alive_ and  _blessed_ and like a fucking cliché because he honestly believed that every other loser on the planet was infinitely unluckier than he was right now. Adam Parrish, impossible magician, was willing to tie his fucking name down next to Ronan's, till death decided to part them. And it would require death to part them, because Ronan was planning on holding onto Adam stronger than fucking _rigor mortis._  

“You’re such a fucking nerd,” Ronan said against Adam’s mouth.

Adam’s laugh was joyous, bright, an oasis in the middle of the shittiest storm. They stopped kissing for a moment as Adam slipped the ring onto Ronan’s finger. They both stared at it, shining darkly against Ronan's skin despite the mud that covered both of their hands.

Ronan lifted their entwined fingers to his mouth. He was never sleeping again. 

#

“It wasn’t the Devil that sabotaged your plans,” Ronan said later. Both of them were wrapped in the blanket, their wet clothes abandoned on the floor somewhere. Adam’s warm skin was sticky against his as they both fought for room on the backseat.

“Hmm?” Adam was almost asleep, and Ronan felt bad waking him up, but he needed to be an asshole just one more time.

“It wasn’t the Devil that ruined your plans, Parrish—it was karma. _Lynch, make me pancakes. Ronan, grab my shoe. Look, a fucking penny_ —all of that bullshit was why your plans were ruined. Because karma is a _bitch_ , Parrish.”

Adam laughed and buried his face into Ronan’s shoulder. “You still said yes, asshole. So I guess karma still lost.”

Ronan pressed his mouth to Adam’s hair. “Yeah, or maybe the Devil owed me a favor.”

**Author's Note:**

> Real talk, this is probably going to be my last update in a while. As much fun as this is, I need to focus on real life, unfortunately.
> 
> (Also, I don't think I'm going to write a Pynch wedding because that sounds exhausting and I have zero ideas of what that would look like.)
> 
> But I hope you enjoyed and that it wasn't too much disjointed rambling. This isn't goodbye, just a prolonged "I'll be back."


End file.
